


Sherlollipops - Kitchen Encounter

by MizJoely



Series: 221 Sherlollipops [218]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Post-The Final Problem, Sherlolly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2018-09-19 04:29:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9418784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MizJoely/pseuds/MizJoely
Summary: Sherlock goes to Molly's place after the events of The Final Problem to make sure Eurus hasn't caused irreperable damage to their relationship.





	1. Chapter 1

He goes to her house immediately. Not because he needs a bolt hole (although he does) but because he needs _her_ . Needs to know that they’re still OK, that Eurus hasn’t done irreparable damage to their relationship, that she hasn’t destroyed their friendship and killed their fragile new _something more_ before it has the chance to be more than mere potential.

She opens the door before he has done more than raise his hand to knock. He stares at her, not wanting to deduce her, wanting her to tell him or show him herself how she feels.

There are signs of tears but he already knew she’d cried. The lips he once disparaged as too thin are pressed in a tight line as she regards him. “I only have one question, Sherlock,” she eventually says, the two of them still standing on either side of the open door.

He nods and he waits while she visibly gathers herself, one hand clutching the doorknob and the other pressed against the sill as if they are the only things keeping her on her feet. “Did you mean it?”

It’s the question he’s been expecting, half in hope and half in fear, and he even though he’d told himself on the way over that he hadn’t made up his mind, that he didn’t know, he finds himself answering. “Yes. Yes, I meant it. I still mean it. I love you. I didn’t know, I wasn’t sure, but I am now.” He nods, head bobbing in time to his rapid-fire stream of unstoppable words. His confession, and she, his confessor. “I love you, Molly Hooper. I thought I was going to lose you and I thought I could just sort of cajole you into saying it without it meaning anything to either of us but in the end…in the end, I meant it. I love you.”

The unstoppable stream is apparently not as unstoppable as he’d supposed, because Molly very effectively puts an end to his babbling by stepping forward, grabbing his scarf, and yanking his head down so she can kiss him. The first touch of her lips and his eyes snap shut; the sensation of her fingers in his hair, curling into the dark strands and tugging hard elicits a groan of both relief and desire, and when she backs her way into her house, pulling him with her, all he can think is _thank God_.

He kicks the door shut and they make it to her kitchen - the very kitchen where Eurus had forced them into three minutes of hell - before they’re tearing one another’s clothes off, trading desperate kisses all the while. The cameras have been disabled and he’ll rip them out later, but not right now. He feels awestruck at the sight of her beautiful little breasts, her slender waist, her soft belly and white thighs and the thatch of cinnamon-colored curls between them. He wants to touch, to taste, to _consume_ , and for a moment he’s frozen with indecision.

Molly - wise, wonderful, _wicked_ Molly - doesn’t let it last longer than a moment. She stares up at him, almost glaring, and says, “Don’t you dare back out of this, Sherlock Holmes, don’t you fucking dare” and just like that he knows exactly what to do.

He hauls her close, naked flesh to naked flesh, hoisting one leg up and rubbing aggressively against her, making sure she can feel the hard, hot shape of his desire. He kisses her, tangling the fingers of his free hand in her hair, tugging loose the elastic and dropping it somewhere - the floor, the counter, possibly on top of the quirky little taxidermied mouse on a skateboard she keeps by the backsplash. The kitchen is otherwise pristine, organized and almost zen-like in its soothing grey-and-white-and-chrome color scheme, but the mouse is pure Molly whimsy.

But it’s not Molly’s whimsy he’s most interested in at the moment, it’s the rest of her - her breasts and her thighs and her hot little pussy, her wet pink mouth so lush beneath his, her tongue sliding against his as he continues to kiss her. He moves both hands to her waist and hoists her up on the granite countertop. She yelps a bit at the cold stone beneath her naked body, but he knows it won’t be long before the cold is forgotten.

He rests his hands on the edges of the counter, one on either side of her legs, and kisses his way down her torso, making sure to take plenty of time on her breasts. Her nipples are large and she makes the softest, most arousing little noises when he suckles on them, and her hands land in his hair again, tugging and caressing, and he hums his approval as he moves lower, darting his tongue into the depressed circle of her navel, licking a path down one thigh and nudging her legs further apart with his head as he reaches his ultimate destination.

Her soft little noises become much louder and sharper as he explores the shape of her sex with his tongue and lips. He slides his hands up her thighs and begins licking her in earnest, determined to wring an orgasm out of her before taking any pleasure for himself. Not that this isn’t pleasing, isn’t driving him delirious with enjoyment, but his twitching, impatient cock wants him to just _get on with it_ but he’s never been one to be ruled by that part of his body and he’s damned if he’s going to start now. So he takes his time, finding out just what makes Molly keen and dig her fingernails into his scalp, how she likes to be tasted, when the flat of his tongue against her vulva is enough and when it’s time to begin tongue-fucking her in earnest. She keens and wails and her legs end up draped over his shoulders as he suckles her clit and kneads the soft mounds of her arse, hauling her closer to the edge of both the counter and orgasm until suddenly she goes taut and cries out his name and nearly pulls a chunk of hair from his head as she goes mindless with pleasure.

He pulls himself upright, carefully lowering her legs to the counter and holding her close as her body shudders in the aftermath. As soon as her breathing returns to something approximating normal and her heart rate has slowed accordingly, he kisses her, and she kisses him back with equal desperation. Wordlessly she spreads her legs and allows him to sink into her. His eyes snap shut at the feeling of being surrounded by Molly. Not just his cock in her pussy, but her legs wrapped around his waist, her arms around his shoulders as he holds her and kisses her.

They rock together and he slides his mouth to her ear, nibbling on the lobe, sucking at her neck. In between he’s murmuring words of love and encouragement, apologizing and promising there was a reason for it all, that it wasn’t a game or an experiment, things she already knows or she never would have let him into her house, let alone her sweet, sweet body.

“I know,” she sighs. “I know, Sherlock. It’s all right. We’re all right.” And then, just when he thinks she won’t say it again, she pulls her head back so she can look him in the eyes. “I know you love me. And I love you.”

He comes right then and there, so hard he sees spots, nearly blacks out, and is vaguely aware that he’s crying out her name, over and over, and telling her he loves her too, berating himself for not realizing it sooner. She offers soothing comfort in the form of her body, holding him closer and saying nothing until they’ve both recovered and moved from the kitchen (conscientiously wiping down the counter with anti-bacterial spray) to her bedroom.

Lying in her bed with his head resting above her heart, he tells her everything, leaving nothing out from start to finish. She listens, making appropriate noises of surprise and horror and pity and relief. He knows they’ll need to talk more about this, about his long-forgotten sister and the horrible things she’s done and how he’s determined to find a way to keep his promise to bring her home somehow (even knowing she can never be free to roam the world again), but for now it’s enough to know that Molly understands. That Molly loves him as much as he loves her.

_The truth is never plain and rarely simple._

Words to live by, but the plain and simple truth of this moment is that Molly still loves him. He hasn’t lost her, and if he has anything to say about it, he never will.

The love in her eyes as she kisses him before they fall asleep in one another’s arms is enough to keep any nightmarish demons at bay.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gorgeous art for this story by Sempaiko. Definitely NSFW!


End file.
